The Union Cabinet’s decision to confer classical language status on both Bengali and Assamese simultaneously puts to rest certain socio-historical and linguistic compulsions inevitable in the early 19th century. The push for a classical tag to Assamese, regarded by many as an offshoot of Bengali, was first made in 2021. A committee comprising archaeologists, linguists and litterateurs under the guidance of the Assam Sahitya Sabha was formed to examine and recommend the case for Assamese as a classical language based on its recorded history and heritage by generations of speakers, epigraphy and inscriptions. The committee was tasked with collating evidence that Assamese meets the criteria set by the Ministry of Culture.
After today’s Assam was made part of the Bengal Presidency by the British East India Company, Bengali was made the official language in 1836. The greatest impact of this classical tag for Assamese may be tied to apprehensions in a state where language and identity have been troubled issues. The challenge to prove its antiquity more than its morphology and syntax was enormous. Moreover, another vernacular, with stark phonetic resemblance and societal dominance for centuries, stood as a reflection for its historical import. A 5th century land grant written in eastern style Brahmi script inscribed on a stone slab in Assam’s Golaghat district and verses in the 8th century text Charyapadas proved the clincher for Assamese. Another condition tweaked by the Linguistic Experts Committee, which went in favour of Assamese, was that the literary tradition should be original and not borrowed from another speech community.
Former Assam DGP Kuladhar Saikia, stressing the psychology of the Assamese community, says, "Everybody wanted this particular declaration because they wanted to show the country that we have a very well-defined path of development as the language of old Kamrup and Pragjyotishpura which spread beyond North East." The grant of a classical language status to Assamese finally establishes and recognises its historical pedigrees, liberating the language from any kind of shadow boxing in the past century between two communities so analogous yet resolutely different. With this, the syncretic and symbiotic rapport between the Assamese and Bengalis has been strengthened.
Having interacted with the second and third generations of many Bengali families in Assam, I have seen the extensive assimilation of multiple cultures, customs and ethnic groups into the modern Assamese community. Since Bengalis learn and converse fluently in Assamese, a more comprehensive and vibrant culture is visible in the state and other Northeastern states where there is a sizeable population of both the communities. The empathy between the communities is like beating the dhak and pepa together; the proximity transcends the ambubachi mela and mag bihu to poush sankranti and Durga Puja.
Culture and language are integral components of any society. They do not exist in isolation. They become more rich and vibrant under new influxes and traditions. Now that both the languages often regarded as colonial cousins have firmly embedded their classical eminence, either would not invoke nativist sentiments as in the past but would amalgamate better socially and culturally. The present diversity in ethnicity, language and religion in Assam is the result of a long process of migration due to tumultuous political upheaval in the region in the past century. Thus the classical tag on Assamese augurs well for the language and the community in general. It is akin to the bhelaghar (house of straw and bamboo) being converted into one of cement and concrete.
Striding through downtown Guwahati or its suburbs, you realise that dates are just numbers on a calendar when it comes to labeling people as indigenous or foreigners. A Bengali Hindu refugee from Mymensingh in erstwhile East Pakistan who came to Assam in the 1950s to join the North Frontier Railway and a domiciled Assamese from Sylhet and Cachar shared the same commonality. Both speak Assamese as natives and also could converse in Bengali. And you witness this lingual dichotomy in Tezpur, Silchar, smaller towns and hamlets in other districts of Assam. Obsession with naming as an act of repetition is a mark of loss, a way to hover around the same place and time in remembrance of things past. The evening kirtan prevalent in the districts of Assam brings out the assimilative powers of the language – one can see people from all ethnicities sing to the slow rhythm of the dobas (drums) and bhortals (brass cymbals) at the namghar or place for congregational worship.
Today, Assamese is one of the 11 languages with classical status out of the 22 official languages recognised in India. Assamese was declared the official vernacular of Assam in 1873, just before Assam became a Chief Commissioner's Province in 1874. Origins of the Tweedledum-Tweedledee relationship between Bengali and Assamese can be traced to the provincial administration in British India where educated Bengalis in droves were at the helm. While many Bengali bureaucrats helped nurture the Assamese language and culture, there was also a conspicuous crop of wily, cliquish and supercilious Bengali hacks and scribes who lost no opportunity to subjugate the hapless Assamese with cultural hegemony. The notion that Assamese gentry also allowed immigrants to settle in the marshlands north and south of Brahmaputra also had a bearing on the demographic suppression of its language. Hence, the Bhasha Gourav Saptah (Pride of Language Week) is to be observed by the Assam government in November to commemorate the classical recognition of Assamese and its relevance.
(The writer is a commentator on society and politics and has been contributing to The New Indian Express and other premier publications for decades.)
